


Words Alone

by disarmed



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, and loki isn't going to take his shit, or that's what he keeps telling himself, tony is a potty-mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 11:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarmed/pseuds/disarmed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is no sacrificial woman with her maidenhead still intact. In fact, he's quite worldly, but that doesn't mean he wants to listen to Anthony Stark describe in explicit detail the best blowjob he's ever received. There's also one other tiny, insignificant little problem, and that would be the painfully hard erection that Loki's currently sporting. Though it has absolutely nothing, nothing to do with what Stark is talking about. Honest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Alone

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a fun kind of fic around 3k, it turned out to be a little longer than that. i've never written anything from loki's perspective before, so this was new and exciting for me. i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it ;)

' - but then she swallowed around my cock and I swear I fucking lost it then and there.'

Since moving semi-permanently into the home of the Avengers (Earth's mightiest heroes, oh _please_ ) Loki has been subject to many nuances and tryings of his patience. Let it never be said he is not patient; his previous endeavors in more less-than-respectable avenues show it is a virtue he has long been familiar with. What he doesn't have time for are such things as stupidity, slowness and deliberate difficulties. It appears what he also doesn't have time for, or better yet whom, is Anthony Stark.

The other occupants of the impressively sized Tower (though Loki has never voiced that out loud, lest Stark's over-sized ego grow yet another cubic metre in size), Loki has learned to live with rather easily. (There were a few speed bumps, but even Loki can not lay _too_ much blame against Barton for being paranoid and frantic.) Barton - as to be expected - goes out of his way to make sure that he and Loki are very rarely in the same room. He and the Black Widow share a muted, bordering-on-respectable relationship, though Loki knows she harbors a silent hatred of him for what he did to Barton. The green monster (or _'that's Doctor Banner to you, antlers'_ , as Stark vehemently corrects him every time he uses a name not given directly to Banner upon his birth) keeps his distance most of the time, which Loki approves of. He does not fancy being another utensil in the re-modelling of Stark's floor, nor does he particularly fancy engaging in a bloody battle with the beast while on civil terms with the rag-tag team of idiots. (He doesn't have to be civil in his own mind.) Rogers - because Loki doesn't like referring to him as 'Captain' the way the others do, that would give him the idea that Loki actually approves of the military title, and he doesn't - has tried to engage with Loki on friendlier terms, but Loki will have none of it. He doesn't want nor need them as friends, thank you. Rogers still tries; though his efforts are far and few between.

Thor is another matter completely. He was, to begin with, Loki's only true ally upon taking up residence with them all. Thor stood by him, defended him, fought for him to take up a place in their home. Though time passes differently for the mortals than it does for both he and Thor, it seems that three years is still not enough time to forget an attempt at mass destruction and world domination; though they had all calmed down significantly. It didn't make the move any less difficult; Thor did some wheedling and smiling and pleading while Loki stood stoically off to the side. He was never going to beg, but he wasn't going to make the situation worse either, considering he had nowhere else to go. Now, however, Thor seems to take that as 'we are brothers again!' and consistently smothers Loki with unwanted and unnecessary affections and attentions.

Stark... Stark is another issue.

'I swear most women think it's just _up-down-up-down_. No, just, _no_. It's in the touch, a blow job is fantastic because it's hot and wet and a fucking great visual I don't need to tell you - actually, Steve, I might need to tell _you_ \- but when she works your her hand around your cock with the right amount of pressure that's when the fireworks start. This one girl in Vegas - '

Stark is a vulgar, disrespectful issue. He is the bane of this whole living situation, to be quite honest. Loki is no sacrificial woman with her maidenhead still intact. In fact, he's quite worldly, but that doesn't mean he wants to listen to Anthony Stark describe in explicit detail the best blowjob he's ever received. There's also one other tiny, insignificant little problem, and that would be the _painfully_ hard erection that Loki's currently sporting. Though it has absolutely nothing, _nothing_ to do with what Stark is talking about.

'- and my _God_ , she wasn't afraid to get her hand around me. Most girls think we want to be touched softly and shit? Like, that can be great if you're in the mood but most of the time I just want the job done, you know? She got her fingers around me and stroked -'

Sitting as elegantly as he can on the opposite end of the couch Stark is sat upon, Loki is thankful he crossed his legs earlier on in the conversation. While he is trying to subtly hide his growing arousal, Rogers appears to be more flustered than even he, though for perhaps another reason. _Rogers_ , thinks Loki with a tinge of amusement, _would be a most appropriate sacrifice. Maidenhead and all._

'I really don't think we need to know about that,' says Rogers stiffly, arms crossed over his broad chest as he looks disdainfully down at Stark. 'These women don't need you -'

'Can it, Cap.' Stark waves a dismissive hand in his direction and turns to face Loki. ' _You_ know what I mean, though.' He looks imploringly at him across the length of the couch. 'You know when they get that spot, jut underneath the head -'

'I have no desire to speak with you about this,' Loki tells him snidely. 'You are but a child in my eyes -'

'That's called pedophilia,' cuts in Stark with a wide eyed expression, 'and that's frowned upon pretty much all over the world.'

Loki blinks. 'What?' An often-times obscure and nonsensical issue, too.

'Kinky, though,' continues Stark as if Loki has never spoken. He turns back to face Rogers. 'I mean, that's not something you kind of throw about in a conversation. What was that guy's name? The actor, you know the one from the Fast and Furious series?' Stark looks expectantly at Rogers' confused face before he sighs tiredly and says, 'what am I thinking asking you. Anyway, not Vin Diesel, the younger one, he was dating a girl only a couple of years older than his own daughter, and that's not pedophilia but there's definitely an age kink there.'

'Are there times,' Loki says through clenched teeth, 'that even you get sick of the nonsense that blabbers forth from your own tongue?'

'Do I get sick of hearing myself speak, you mean?' Stark seems to think this is clarifying what Loki has just said, and Loki thinks that if it helps him sleep at night, what's the harm. Stark will open his mouth again in five, four, three - 'Not particularly. Most of the time what I'm saying is actually important, it's just that second rate minds can't keep up.' Stark slides a somewhat guilty glance across the room at them both. 'Not that I'm saying either of you have second-rate minds -'

Yes, thinks Loki tiredly as he shifts in his seat. Stark is certainly an issue.

\--

At first Loki had assumed that Stark would talk about such vulgar things just to get under his skin. He wouldn't put it past the annoying little man, but it soon became apparent that Stark just seemed to have a mind built for two things. Technology and sex.

'That's the thing about giving head; I think it's something to do with having power,' Stark is saying to Banner one evening while they tinker away in Stark's laboratory. Loki is only down there due to Thor, who has been allowing Stark and Banner to use him as a test subject. Loki doesn't willingly spend his time alone in a room with Stark and Banner if he has the choice. Loki had harbored a fleeting prayer that Thor would not be interested in Stark's disgusting commentary, but it would seem his brother is just as sexually-charged as Stark when he responds enthusiastically to the conversation.

'Aye,' he agrees fondly. 'It is to hold a form of power when a bed-mate allows you to do such thing.' He frowns a little and glances at Loki. 'Though we do not speak of such things as openly on Asgard as you tend to do here on Midgard.'

'We _don't_ actually talk this openly,' says Banner from behind a series of floating blue numbers. Loki raises a brow. 'Tony's just more open than others.'

'Are you saying I'm easy?' Stark asks in mock hurt. He points a spanner in the doctor's direction. 'Shame on you for speaking about your friends in such a manner.' He drops the hurt when Banner doesn't respond, and takes up his previous conversation line. 'I'm a giver, I like to _give_ ,' he says to Thor, 'I'll be going until my tongue is aching and my jaw is about to drop off, but let me tell you; it's fucking worth it when you feel her thighs start to tremble and her back arching like she can't get enough of you.'

Thor makes a sound of agreement. 'I know of what you speak. It does have its merits.'

Loki wants to leave. He probably could; he could vanish in an instant if he so felt the need, but by leaving now it may give Stark the thought that he's uncomfortable with such talk. That perhaps he is offended by Stark's rude conversation. That would be a weakness and he is neither, nor is he weak. Loki has probably had more lovers than Stark can count, no matter how impressive the mortal's mind may be. Loki knows Stark's kind, by the Nine, he knows _Fandral_. If anything, Stark is a more vocal, dark-haired version of Fandral himself, and that does not please Loki in the slightest. One of them is enough; _two_ makes him wonder if he really did try to take over the wrong planet. This is obviously his punishment; which is far worse than what Odin handed to him upon his first return to Asgard.

'- but to be able to fuck her when she's already come, when she's half out of it and just _dripping_ -'

It's like he never stops. Loki almost winces when he feels his treacherous body responding to Stark's words. _No._ Not this again. Why does this affect him so? Stark is a nuisance of a man - he is blabbering fool - he should not be having this affect on Loki. Howeve, he can not hide too much from the truth, considering the truth is growing in his pants. Loki wonders if it's noticeable. He hopes it's not. He chances a glance down and finds that if he shifts to the side a little -

'What about you old-timer? You're always going on about how old you are; what are your tricks in the bedroom?'

Loki looks up sharply when he realizes that Stark is addressing him. 'You are speaking to me?' he asks tonelessly, willing his arousal to subside. Stark is very obviously speaking to him, and appears to not like being treated like a fool, as he does not answer Loki's questions. 'Why would I divulge my private information to the likes of you?' he spits at Stark. 'You who are nothing more than -'

'Prudish _and_ defensive. Someone hasn't been getting any for a while.'

'I _beg_ your pardon -'

'It's okay. So you're having a dry-spell. I mean, you were pretty busy with the alien army and all that a couple of years ago, but I thought you'd have gotten some since then.' Stark looks genuinely sorry for him. Loki wants to gouge out Stark's eyes and feed them to him. 'It's cool, though,' Stark is saying as he walks backwards around the table and starts flicking around some screens, 'everybody has a dry-spell. I mean, not _me_ , personally, but I'm sure that -'

' _Tony_.' This time it's Banner who intervenes. 'Why don't you give it a rest?' Loki thinks he could actually come to like the doctor after all. 'If Loki doesn't want to talk about his dry-spell then leave him be.' Or not. Perhaps he shall gouge out _both_ their eyes and shove them -

'Sorry about it, then.' As Stark strides past he claps a hand on Loki's shoulder and winks. 'I won't talk about your dry-spell if it'll upset you, princess.'

Loki moves to lunge after Stark's back when he's yanked back by his collar. Thor drags him to his previous position against the wall. 'No, Loki,' he says in a mild sort of manner. 'Stark is merely jesting. Do not take offense to his words.'

Stark turns to look over his shoulder at Loki's seething expression. 'Trying to take me from behind, Bambi? I didn't want to say anything but I thought you might swing that way.'

If Loki were any less composed he would have let out an enraged shriek. Instead, he forces his face into a neutral expression before teleporting himself back to his rooms.

\--

Apparently in his three year absence the Avengers had solidified their camaraderie with things called 'Movie Nights' and other such nonsense. These events did not stop once Loki moved in, and Loki did not have any particular desire to be a part of them, but by Thor's insistence he was. It would seem that these 'nights' had a set date, but due to the Avengers' hectic scheduling of constant do-gooding, they happened whenever every one was in the building at the same time.

'I'm calling Star Trek,' says Stark loudly after he yells for JARVIS to turn on the television. Loki has no particular fondness for JARVIS, though he can appreciate dry wit where it's needed. Stark's artificial intelligence may be eerie and invisible, but Loki can not deny its responses to Stark's (often ridiculous) demands rather hilarious. Though of course, he will never admit _that_ to Stark, either.

'You picked last time.' The Black Widow is seated next to Barton on the long couch, and Loki takes his usual position on the opposite end by the arm.

Thor usually sits beside him, and then perhaps Rogers, while Stark and Banner take the fold out leather arm chairs on the right hand side of the couch. No one really likes to sit next to Loki, and to be fair Loki doesn't like to sit next to anyone, either. It's only that Thor spends most of the night looking hurt if Loki chooses to sit on his lonesome. He finds it easier to give in every so often rather then deal with Thor's 'but brother, I thought we were past this,' and 'what is it I have done to offend you, Loki?'

By the Nine, if his former villain self could see him now.

'You also promised to show me the The Notebook,' Rogers points out with a frown as he leans against the back of the couch. Loki shoots him a disgruntled look over his shoulder. Rogers takes the hint and backs off, moving to sit in one of the lone chairs.

Stark barks out a laugh as he flips a remote in his hand. 'I was fucking with you, Rogers. Even _Pepper_ can't stand the level of sappy-ness it throws at you.'

Rogers looks particularly put out. 'That's really not fair -'

'Life's not fair, is it?' Stark drawls over Rogers' complaining.

'Hey, Chronicle's pretty good.' Barton is sifting through a pile of films. He hands one over to the Widow. 'Or what about some oldschool Hitchcock?'

'I think I'd prefer something more along the lines of a thriller,' says Widow agreeably after a moment of reading the back of a film case.

'What about some Sharon Stone?' asks Stark loudly. 'Basic Instinct is a great thriller.'

'Since when have you liked Sharon Stone?' Banner asks curiously.

 _What is this stone_ , Loki thinks sourly, _and if Stark likes it then surely I will not._

'Since always,' Stark shoots back. 'No questions. Basic Instinct.' He snatches the pile of films from Barton and finds the one he's looking for. 'JARVIS, send a call out for Thor, would you?'

'Thor is on his way,' says Loki flatly. 'He was abusing a sack of sand the last time I saw him and swimming in a vile pool of his own sweat. No doubt he is cleaning himself off.'

'Hitting the gym? Got it.' Stark tells JARVIS to hit the lights and pause the film before he takes a seat next to Loki on the couch.

Loki stiffens immediately. This is not where Stark sits. This is Thor's space. It is not Stark's. Stark should be siting somewhere else -

'Got a problem?' asks Stark. Loki realizes he's been caught staring. Stark raises a brow.

'No,' says Loki smoothly. 'Apart from the fact that history shows you have a terrible taste in films then -'

'As opposed to you having no taste at all -'

'- no I don't _'have a problem.'_ '

' - so that's great then, you don't have a problem, you can stop staring at me like you're hoping my head will implode.' Stark smiles at him sharply.

Thor arrives in the room, apologizing for his lateness, and looks at Stark sitting in his seat. Loki pleads silently that for once Thor will lose his temper and drag Stark from his spot and shove him into his silly little chair, but Thor just smiles and snatches a large throw-cushion from the couch next to Stark, choosing to sprawl himself out over the carpeted floor. Loki wants to kick him and tell him he looks ridiculous, and that he should have strangled Stark and thrown _him_ to the floor. Instead, Loki sets his eyes on the screen as the film begins to play out, trying to remind himself that it's only for a few hours and then he can go back to being alone and unbothered in his own room.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

\--

'I love this film. The chemistry between Stone and Douglas is palpable. I mean, she's fucking _hot_ in this - the ways that I would _do_ her -'

Stark is off again. This time Stark has taken to almost whispering in Loki's ear, breath hot and steady as he speaks, eyes glued to the television. Loki can't even lean away any more otherwise he might fall off the couch. He contemplates the outcome if he were to reach over and snap Stark's neck. Perhaps the others would not notice straight away? Perhaps he would have a four second chance to get away, let the Black Widow get her disgustingly dangerous hands on him. 

'- let's be honest, I'd totally pull a threeway with them both. I mean, to get into that kind of chemistry? You'd break the fucking bed -'

Loki would be far more okay with all of this if he wasn't hard yet _again_.

\--

At first Loki had thought that Stark was saying such things to just to annoy him. Then he realized that Stark never purposely singled him out; the conversations are usually always held when one or more than the Avengers are in the same room. (Except for the Black Widow; the one time Stark had tried to talk about sex in front of her she'd shut him down with such a withering look that even Loki was impressed.) Stark never actually focuses a specific part of the conversation towards him, either. Stark asks stupid questions, but he does tend to ask the others the same inane questions, so Loki can't be too put out about it. He had wondered if Stark was doing it just to mess with his head, or perhaps he had a more specific agenda, but after a while it seemed to become clear that Stark just had a very sexual mind, and there wasn't much Loki could do about it. The other inhabitants of the tower don't seem to like his vulgar talk that much (Except for Thor, the disgusting traitor, and Barton; but Loki is sure that Barton only contributes to the conversation because he knows it makes him uncomfortable) and the Widow stonily refuses to be a part of any of Stark's sexual conversations.

The first time Stark talks about anal, though, is when Loki really wonders what is going on. This time it is in the presence of Barton, and the two continue to discuss the best way to go about the whole thing depending on your size, and what about prep? _Prep_ , thinks Loki, _what is this prep?_

'I usually stop at about two fingers but hey, three if you're keen.'

Oh, _preparation._

'I've found that some women are more comfortable with a dildo than fingers.'

'But most men aren't.'

'What?'

This is the day Loki realizes that Stark's interests are not held solely by the female population. Apparently so does Barton.

'Are you -'

'-open and willing to a good time? Yes.'

'That wasn't what I was going to say.'

'Nope, it's better than what you were going to say. You were going to slap a label on it and swipe it through as canned goods.'

'I'm not even surprised, to be honest.'

'You're a spy, Barton, you're not supposed to be surprised.'

'Yeah, well you're not supposed to like fucking men.'

'Says who? What about you, tall, dark and brooding? You got anything to say on this?'

Loki, who had been making a slow, slinking exit, hisses out a terse _'no!'_ and strides from the room.

\--

Over the next few weeks Loki gets to hear every sordid detail of Stark's sexual life. How he lost his virginity, how many threesomes he has participated in, his 'kinks' as they are called on this _stupid_ planet, what is on his _'blacklist_ ' - Lord, the Midgardians always make things complicated - how many sexual partners Stark has had (and Loki tells himself he is not impressed, it just makes Stark easy and shows he has low standards and Loki is absolutely one hundred percent _not_ jealous) and just about every other thing that could possibly be construed in a sexual manner.

Whether it's with Barton or Thor, or in the presence of Stark's military friend with skin the color of Heimdall's and the name of Rhodes, Stark recounts tales of sexual vigour that Loki feels are said just for him. Loki had once thought that these talks of sex had just been a bout of bad luck and ill timing, and that soon Stark would move onto something else. Alas, Loki now knows this not to be so. He wonders if this is how Stark has always been, and that perhaps he was just too busy trying to take over the world to notice. It's starting to look like a nice alternative, if he's going to be completely honest. Stark continues to tell him things in explicit detail, and Loki is almost on the verge of locking himself in his room for the next six months just to calm himself down.

In fact, Loki thinks, it's his best idea yet.

Stark can not talk to him if Loki is not there to be talked to.

Gleeful at some peace and annoyed that he hadn't thought of it sooner, Loki retreats to his room and locks himself in it with an impressive array of spell work. Have Stark break through that, he thinks smugly. He can probably last in his room a good three months without nourishment, but it's not got to that yet; just a week or so to allow this... tiny, stupid infatuation with Stark to subside. It is not unheard of that he would lock himself away; sometimes he takes trips through the branches of Yggdrasil when he finds himself stuck in his own skin and itching to cause havoc. This should not be looked upon any differently.

However, it is always prudent to lie a little in order to protect oneself. He does tell Thor that he will be away for the week; much to Thor's obvious displeasure. Loki could care less, Thor is not sporting a painful erection every time Anthony Stark opens his mouth, which if nobody in this accursed building has noticed, is _always._

\--

Come three days in and Loki is reading through some old volumes he acquired from Alfheim some years ago. Not particularly light reading, but interesting none the less, and far better than what lay in the communal area of the Tower. It's beautiful, really, thinks Loki as he sits back in his chair, the silence; the _peace._ Nothing to disturb -

'What're you up to sweet cheeks?'

Loki whips his head around so fast he hears it crack. Where is he? How did Stark get through the door? How does he know Loki is still in the building? What trickery -

'Don't strain yourself,' comes Stark's disembodied voice from the ceiling. Loki looks up sharply. What he thought to be an air vent is apparently a speaker. 'I monitor the tower, _BTW_ \- that means by the way - with heat sensors. Do you know what's surprising about yours? You come up as below the average body heat, which is ninety-eight-point-six. You're showing up as way, way colder than that -'

'Was there a message of import you had to pass on, Stark?' Loki says as evenly as possible, already working a spell to destroy the speaker.

'Just wanted to know why you holed yourself up in your room and then lied to Thor about it. Also, don't bother blowing up my speaker, I have like, fifteen other ways to contact you through there and -'

'None of what I do is your business,' Loki informs him coolly. He casts a suspicious glance around the room. 'If I find that you are also capturing me on film, Stark -'

'Nope, I'm not that voyeuristic. Why, are you?' Stark's disembodied voice sounds particularly lecherous. 'I'm kidding,' he says in a lighter tone, 'don't have a tantrum.' Loki wonders if Stark was lying about the filming. 'Thor worries when you disappear, you know.'

Loki slams his book shut and stands up. 'What care of that is yours?'

'He's my friend, you're my friend -'

'I am not your friend.'

'You're my _sort-of_ friend. I don't like to see the big guy suffer, you know? Especially when you're still in the Tower and lying about it. Thor's worried you'll end up snatched by some aliens and tortured. Or something along those lines.' For a moment, Stark is quiet. 'Is that what happened? With the Chitauri, I mean? Is that why -'

'Your _speaker_ ,' says Loki through clenched teeth, 'is milliseconds away from being _obliterated._ '

'Okay then. Just asking. Apparently it does hurt to ask. Jarvis would be so unimpressed if you did that.' Loki sits on the edge of his bed, wondering if it would be better just to leave the Tower entirely. 'What _are_ you doing in there, though?'

Loki considers ignoring him. Isn't that the Midgardian saying? If you ignore something it will eventually go away?

'Ignoring me won't make me go away?'

'What will then?' Loki mutters under his breath, quiet enough that Stark won't pick it up.

'Okay, my audio sensors are telling me you said something but I didn't hear it. I'm assuming it's something rude and insulting. Don't worry, I forgive you. Are you going through your cycle? Pepper on her cycle is not a fun time, let me tell you, in fact she -'

Loki lays back on the bed and shuts his eyes. What has he done to deserve this? Surely this is not his belated karmic punishment from his villainy years earlier. He got over that phase, damn it all, he _reformed_. Or well, slightly. That incident in Norway last year was out of pure boredom, pure, _pure_ boredom. They can't expect him to behave all the time; he's the God of Mischief, haven't they heard?

'- are you even listening to me? I know you're there, you're coming up on the screen.'

'Yes,' admits Loki tiredly, 'I am here.'

'Well, I did know that but it's nice to have some confirmation. I know you probably don't think so, but we're on the same wavelength -'

Perhaps he should give in. He has not given in easily before in his life. Surely once would not be so bad? But _oh_ , the _shame_ in it. Loki winces as a low tone in Stark's voice sends a jolt through his body. Gods, why Stark? Of all the annoying, short, obnoxious mortals to get under his skin, it had to be _Stark._ Still, Loki considers idly as his fingers dance across the waist band of his pants, Stark does have a genius level intellect. For a mortal, at least, though some of what he works on in that laboratory of his is on a similar working scale to the magicks that Loki himself is familiar with. Science and magic, one and the same, though Loki's does not have a failing point. Stark's science, on the other hand -

' - which makes us kind of similar.'

Loki jerks his head up. 'What did you say?' he asks to the room, fingers stilled over his lower stomach.

Stark's voice comes again, quieter but no less sure. 'I said, that's what makes us kind of similar.' Loki wonders what Stark had said prior to that, but he doesn't want to ask. Luckily, Stark is never one to stay silent for long. 'The first time Thor brought it up I didn't want to listen, you know? Doesn't mean I hadn't already thought about, thought about the parallels; of course I had. It just meant I wasn't ready to admit it.'

'Why are you telling me this?' Loki asks, cursing himself as his fingertips trace the lacing of his pants, slowly undoing them as Stark continues to speak.

'Because you're holed up in your room being a sour-puss. Obviously something's bothering you.'

 _Oh, Stark, if only you knew._ Loki winces as the pads of his fingers brush against his erection. This is wrong, he knows it is wrong, but he's tired and he's stressed and Stark's voice is slipping down his spine like liquid warmth and _ohbytheNine._

Loki grunts. Stark must take that as an answer because he continues speaking.

'We don't hate you, you know. Okay, so Barton might hate you, but can you blame him? I think it tampered down a bit when he found out about Phil. That was wrong for Fury to let us believe he was dead, but it doesn't lessen what you did.'

'Collateral,' Loki whispers brokenly as he wraps a hand around his cock.

'So you say. You talk a lot to hide the rest; I know you do, because I do it too.' Loki doesn't care, he just wants Stark to keep talking. Anything, anything at all, because he's hot and hard and leaking pre-cum in his own hand and it's all because of Stark. 'You don't have to hide up there, you know. Come down tomorrow. It'll stop Thor worrying.' Stark is silent for a moment and Loki bites back a groan, tightening his fist and rubbing his thumb beneath the head of his cock and _yes_ , so close.

Loki bites through skin until blood drops to his tongue as he comes, wet over his hand and stomach. Curse Stark.

'- if that's okay with you?'

Loki tries to regulate his breathing. What has Stark just said? 'Yes. Yes, fine,' he says as evenly as possible to hide his growing shame.

'Great,' says Stark brightly, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

 _Fuck_ , thinks Loki, as his own seed dries on his stomach and Stark's voice no longer fills the room. _Fuck_.

\--

When Loki wakes the room is dark and silent. He is half naked and incredibly aroused.

'No,' he hisses brokenly into his pillow. He clenches his hands into fists and rolls onto his stomach. Why is Stark's face in his head, why is it that all he can hear is Stark? Fight it. He must fight it. He is a God, no mortal should be having this effect on him, he who is so worldly and why did he roll onto his stomach? Oh by the _Gods,_ it's _worse_ , there's friction and heat and pressure and -

He rolls onto his back, fingers curling around his flushed cock _again._

\--

Loki is slinking through the Tower towards the kitchen. Nourishment he may not need, but that does not mean he is not overly fond of the caffeine machine that spouts out liquid energy. After his last night's... _activities_ , he's finding himself a little behind on his sleep. He is not out of his room because Stark asked him to; certainly not. There was, apparently, little else to do by his lonesome. He was bored. He had to go to the bathroom. Loki thinks perhaps his lies are getting weak. He's already seen Thor, made up some disgustingly easy story about his trips through the worlds. Thor, it seems, stills takes a lot of what he says at face value. Perhaps his lying is not too bad. Though Loki thinks Thor really should have learnt by now, given previous circumstances.

'What're you sneaking around for, baby cakes?'

Loki doesn't bother gracing Stark with a glance. 'Must you continue with these incessant and ridiculous names for me?'

'You don't like them?' asks Stark, sounding no where no hurt. Loki chooses to ignore him and his growing arousal and instead pays attention to the coffee machine. 'I think you like them, secretly.'

'I don't,' says Loki snidely.

'For the God of Lies you're a terrible liar.'

Loki finally turns to face him. Stark is closer than Loki had previously thought. Leaning against the expensive bench top with his arms folded lazily across his chest, Stark quirks a brow at him as he waits for a response. Loki wonders if back-handing him across the room would be appropriate. Maybe not. Verbal response only.

'Your opinions mean little to me.' It's not his best line, but he delivers it with enough snark and venom that Stark raises both brows. 'Don't you have somewhere else to be, someone else to bother?' asks Loki testily, turning his back on Stark and focusing on his coffee. There's a dull ache vibrating through his body and Loki wills it to disappear.

'You have my undivided attention.'

Loki snorts. 'How lucky I am.'

'I should think so. It's not often something gets my undivided attention.'

Loki stills his hands and weighs Stark's words. What do they mean? Is he jesting? He doesn't want to turn around, and Stark has not yet spoken again. Is he being sarcastic? He does not seem to be lying, Loki can tell when people are lying, obviously. Stark is speaking the truth? Is it just a statement? The ache is starting to grow, starting to settle in the lower regions of his stomach as something hot and twisting.

'Don't strain yourself.'

The repetition of last night's words are like a flash in Loki's mind. He finally turns around, retort on the tip of his tongue when he finds Stark standing closer than before. Stark smirks a little. Loki automatically moves to step back and finds his retreat stopped by the bench behind him.

'I can assure you,' Loki says through clenched teeth, 'I'm not.'

'I don't know,' says Stark thoughtfully, eyeing Loki up and down with a leer. 'You're looking pretty strained.'

'You're looking like a man who wants his head on a pike.'

'You're looking like a man who needs a good fuck.'

Loki's eyebrows shoot into his hairline. Stark gives him a look. Loki doesn't even pause to think, he just leans in and Stark tilts his head up and then they're kissing. Loki is almost one hundred percent certain that Stark has been working some backwards strain of magic on him (hypnotism?), but he doesn't even care because Stark's tongue is in his mouth and the other man is hot and warm and oh, _oh_ he could do this _forever._

Stark pauses, his body tense, Loki can feel it. They pull away slightly, eyes fluttering open to regard each other carefully. There's a moment of hesitation, lips brushing lips and breath on breath and then they're at it again. Stark's arm circles tight around his waist, and Loki grips onto Stark's arms with a claw-like intensity. It is hot and hard, tongue and teeth, and Loki _revels_ in it. The slick slide of lips and the hot press of bodies and then Loki feels himself shoved up against the bench and the marble is digging into his spine and he loves it. He loves every painful, uncomfortable moment of it. He leans back, dips down a little and it hurts his back, but it's worth it to feel Stark bracket him with his arms and grind his hips into his groin. Oh, so, _so_ worth it. 

It almost distresses Loki how much he wants this, how eager he is for it, but Stark has been on his mind for longer than he'd care to admit, and he's not going to let it slip through his fingers now. Stark's low tones and sexual words over the past few months have driven him to the brink of insanity; his cock has not had so much action in the past quarter of a year as it has in the last few weeks alone. The growing ache in the lower part of his stomach is becoming more prominent as Stark bites at his lips and presses him up against the bench; coffee all forgotten. Stark's teeth clack against his own and Stark murmurs 'fuck' under his breath and Loki almost loses it then and there. The burning ache turns to hot, sharp want and Loki lets a broken sound escape his lips.

'Wait - _wait_ \- brief pause,' says Stark, pulling away from Loki's brutal kiss. His lips are kiss-red-swollen, his eyes blown black with lust, and Loki wants to ravish him. Impatient and annoyed, he waits with a scowl. 'This is a kitchen -'

'Oh, nicely deduced, Stark, is there any other bright nugget of information you wish to -'

' - and we should be doing this in a bedroom. Mine. Yours. Barton's. I don't even care.'

Loki blinks and then nods, because words are failing him. His brain has melted in his skull and fallen to a puddle on the floor down the length of his spine. _Well_ , he thinks blankly, _that's a first_. Stark is grinning, white teeth and bruised lips and dark eyes and Loki is on him before he can really think abut it. He's missed this; it's been a while since he's had a lover and _oh_ , Stark is so well suited. Not that he'll ever tell him, of course. Stark moves to tug him out of the kitchen and Loki rolls his eyes because he's impatient and _not_ a mortal.

Twisting his hand in Stark's shirt he brings him in for a violent kiss before moving them both to Stark's bedroom in the flash of a second.

Stark hardly takes the time to be disorientated; he's too busy removing his shirt and working at Loki's. Loki allows Stark's inventor's hands to trace his chest, to push his shirt over his head and drop it to the floor. Stark's hands are warm and rough against his skin, mapping his back and digging into his spine and Loki bites at Stark's cheek and down his neck, sucks to leave a mark, grins wickedly when Stark curses and walks them backwards towards his bed.

Stark is divesting him of his pants when Loki rears back and narrows his eyes. 'Your talk of other men and women -'

'Oh my _God_ ,' Stark growls out in exasperation, pausing in his ripping of Loki's clothes, 'I was _woo-ing_ you, you idiot.'

It takes Loki's brain a moment to catch up. 'You were what?'

'Woo-ing you?' Stark looks at him expectantly. 'You know, _seducing_ you? Trying to get into your pants? Courting? Is that what they call it on Asgard? I mean, I'm not fucking asking you to _marry_ me but I'm definitely trying to get you into bed which I'm like almost three quarters of the way to sealing the deal -'

'You talk far too much.' Loki grins and kisses the words from Stark's mouth as his hands work Stark's pants off.

'Yeah,' says Stark through their kisses with a cocky grin, 'but I think you kind of like it.' He smirks when Loki rolls his eyes and presses wet, open-mouthed kisses to his jaw. 'Also, if we're going to be doing this on a semi-regular basis -'

'Semi-regular?'

'Well, I mean, I'm kind of hoping for more than that but I don't want to over shoot here -'

'Get on with it, Stark.'

' - as I was saying, if we're going to be doing this, you should probably learn to call me Tony.'

Loki rolls his hips and is rewarded with a garbled moan. 'Tony,' he drawls, rolling his hips again. 'I think I can do that.'


End file.
